Talk About a Furry Little problem
by geniusoswin
Summary: AU: Derek is a wolf, the Hale fire happened, Laura and Peter were both killed. Derek's roomies with Lydia and Jackson. Stiles knows nothing about werewolves and is 18 or so. Sterek.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, this is my first Teen Wolf fanfic, so please don't be too harsh. Constructive criticism is welcomed, though. **

**So this is an AU where Derek lives with Jackson and Lydia. He is a wolf, but Stiles knows nothing about wolves or anything. In this, Stiles is about 18 and Derek is about 21. The Hale fire happened, but Peter and Laura were both killed. Hope you enjoy **

"Do I _seriously_ have to do this?" Stiles grumbled into the phone, pulling on his red hoodie over his Iron Man shirt.

"Yes, Stiles. You _seriously _have to do this. I'm not asking much of you; just take the guy out to a movie. He's driving Jackson and I _crazy, _we just need _one night _of freedom from Derek. Alright?" said Lydia.

"Fine," Stiles mumbled, grabbing his keys and wallet and stuffing them into his pockets. "But you are _so_ making this up to me."

Lydia chuckled. "We'll see what I can do."

Stiles went down the stairs. He saw the Sheriff sitting on the couch, channel surfing, trying to pretend he didn't have a packet of chips at his side. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Bye, dad, I'm going out for my date now. And don't even _think _about eating more chips, because if you do I will sit your sorry ass down and force feed you salad," Stiles called, slipping out of the door.

As Stiles made his way to the Jeep, he absentmindedly fiddled with his outfit, picking at a loose thread of cotton. With his Iron Man tee and red hoodie, he wore some faded blue skinny jeans and his red converse. He had a pair in every colour, which he wore everywhere.

A few days back, over coffee, Lydia had talked Stiles into taking her and Jackson's semi-hermit roommate on a date so that they could have some… _alone time _without being interrupted. Stiles had begrudgingly agreed. I mean, when Lydia Martin asked you to do something, you sure as hell did it. She had the whole town wrapped around her dainty little finger, and could have your reputation shredded in less than five seconds. Not to mention her boyfriend is built like a monster truck.

It's well known that it's unwise to fuck with Lydia Martin.

Stiles pulled up outside the apartment block that Lydia was currently residing in. It was situated in the nicer part of Beacon Hills, but Stiles didn't expect any less. Both Lydia and Jackson were set for life, and he'd assumed Derek would be pretty loaded, too. From his experience, rich people tended to hang out with rich people. The only reason Lydia even talked to Stiles was because his best friend, Scott McCall, had been close with Jackson in high school, both playing on the lacrosse team. Stiles played as well, so by association, Stiles was no longer untouchable.

Stiles walked up to the door and rung the bell. After a few seconds and muffled sounds of Lydia yelling, Derek answered the door, dressed fashionably, but comfortably. He wore a dark grey shirt that showed off his defined muscles and, had opted for skinny jeans. The black of Derek's jeans matched his hair nicely, and made his green eyes stand out. He wore black hi-tops.

Stiles was taken aback by the man's appearance. Hadn't Lydia said he never went out? God, if Stiles looked like that… let's say, he wouldn't be single. Like, ever.

"Hey, I'm Stiles. Derek, I presume?" said Stiles, trying to attain a look of calm.

"Hi, Stiles. Yeah, I'm Derek," said Derek, smiling widely and extending his hand. God, that smile could melt butter.

Stiles accepted his hand and shook it with enthusiasm. "Are you ready to go?" asked Stiles, gesturing to the Jeep. "Our carriage waits."

Derek chuckled. "Yeah, I'm ready to go. What're we seeing?"

"Dude, is that even a question? Iron Man three, all the way," scoffed Stiles, gesturing to his shirt.

"Ah, a Marvel fan. Cool, I've been looking forward to it for ages," Derek said.

Stiles offered Derek his arm. "Shall we go?"

Derek laughed, the sound clear and melodic. "Sure."

Stiles led Derek to the car, opening the door for him when they reached it.

"A gentleman," observed Derek, his smile wide and toothy.

"I'm nothing if not chivalrous," replied Stiles, grinning.

Thank god, he had a sense of humour. If there was one thing that Stiles could not stand, it was someone without a sense of humour.

He closed the door after Derek and jogged around to his door. He started the car and peeled away from the sidewalk.

He handed Derek the iPod connected to the speaker system he had put in last summer.

"As a general rule in this baby, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. But, since it is your first trip in my baby, I will graciously offer you the chance to pick the music. On one condition," said Stiles, his face taking on a serious expression.

"Which is?" asked Derek, looking up from the list of songs.

"Don't hate. This is a hate free zone," said Stiles, gesturing around the car. "With that in mind, you may proceed."

He took a good minute to decide, his eyebrows furrowed while he chewed on his lip. Derek smiled and chose a song. As he sat back he looked at Stiles, to gage his reaction.

_Therapy _by All Time Low blasted through the speakers. Stiles grinned, and Derek smiled. He slouched in his seat and tapped the beat with his fingers.

"This was my favourite song for ages," admitted Stiles. "Back when I had really bad ADHD, I used to listen to this and it'd calm me down."

"Mine, too," sighed Derek. "I used to go to therapy, back when…"

Derek let the sentence fall, smile slipping from his face.

"It's alright, if you don't want to talk about it," said Stiles, reaching out to touch Derek's arm. "It sucks when people press you to talk about things you don't want to."

Derek smiled thankfully. "Who was it for you?"

Stiles was taken aback at the question. "H-how'd you know?" he stammered.

"People don't talk like that unless they've experienced it, you know? There's that saying, 'the loneliest people are the kindest. The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do.' I'm just saying here, Stiles, but your smile is pretty damn bright," said Derek.

"My mom," sighed Stiles. "I was little. It was cancer. No biggie. But, back up a minute, are you attempting to compliment me? Because if so, it totally worked. My ego is appeased."

Derek laughed. Though the song kept playing, there was an awkward silence for the first time that night. Soon enough, they were at the cinema. Stiles opened Derek's door and offered the very muscly man his arm. Derek rolled his eyes, but was smiling as he accepted the arm.

Stiles bought the tickets and headed straight for the confectionary section, tugging on Derek's hand to hurry him. Derek chuckled, shook his head and hurried after the enthusiastic boy. Stiles decided to restrict his sugar intake so he could function enough to drive the car back to Lydia's, so he only got a pack of Twizzlers, some popcorn and a Coke. He told Derek to pick whatever he wanted, but he said he'd share Stiles' popcorn, so he only got a Coke.

They headed to the checkout and Stiles frowned when he saw the lady serving them check out Derek's ass. To mark his territory, Stiles slid his hand around Derek's and intertwined their fingers. Derek gave him a questioning look, which slipped into a smile pretty quickly.

They got into their seats as the ads were finishing. They watched the movie in peace, Derek smiling fondly whenever Stiles gasped or hid his eyes between his fingers. They spent most of the movie holding hands. At one point, Stiles rested his head against Derek's arm, and Derek felt warmth spread through the limb and smiled.

'_Thank god for Lydia, and her match-making skills,' _thought Derek, sighing contentedly.

Once the movie was over, Stiles drove Derek back to Lydia's. He walked Derek up to the door.

"So, do you-" started Stiles.

"I was thinking-" said Derek at the same time.

The two giggled awkwardly and Derek cleared his throat.

"So, Derek, can I get your number?" asked Stiles, blushing.

"Sure," said Derek, accepting Stiles' phone and punching in his number.

"I had fun tonight," said Stiles, biting on his lip, looking up at Derek. There were only a few inches between the two, but Stiles still had to look slightly up to see Derek.

"Me too," agreed Derek, smiling.

"Well, I'll call you," said Stiles, turning to head towards the car. He hesitated, turning around and kissing Derek on the cheek before walking back to his Jeep and waving awkwardly. Derek chuckled.

Stiles drove home and collapsed on his bed, still fully clothed. He fell asleep to the thoughts of Derek's warm hands and crooked smile.

**So that was my first attempt at Sterek, hopefully it was **_**too**_** horrible. And yes, there was a supernatural reference, shoot me. *just by the way I got All Time Low from season 2 finale, Stiles has an All Time Low poster***


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as Derek stepped into the threshold of his shared apartment, he was bombarded with questions from an ever-so-curious Lydia.

"Oh my god! How did it go? Was he nice? Did you kiss? Did you more than kiss? Oh my god, did you-"

"It was fine, Lydia," said Derek, interrupting Lydia. He didn't think he was quite prepared for the end of that sentence just yet.

"Just fine?" said Lydia, her eyebrow raised, a hand on her hip.

"It was great," admitted Derek, grinning. "Stiles is great. Thank you."

Lydia smiled, flipping her hair off her shoulder. "It's fine, Derek. I'm just glad you have a reason to get off your lazy ass and have fun. Especially since that reason happens to be a fine slice of man butt."

After grilling him for a few more minutes, she finally decided to let him be. Derek went upstairs to his room after bidding both of his roommates goodnight.

When Derek reached his room, he closed the door and rifled around in his drawers for a pair of sleep pants (he chose his Batman ones. He would never admit it, but he was _such _a Batman nerd it wasn't funny) and a singlet. Derek crawled under his black doona and drifted off to sleep.

Derek woke to the shrill sound of Lydia squealing. Though it sounded like she was downstairs, Derek's werewolf hearing amplified the sound to make it seem like she was screaming directly into his ear. He winced, quickly stumbling out of bed and downstairs.

"Lydia, seriously? What time is it? Oh, great. It's ten o-freaking clock in the morning and you have to fuc-"

"Derek! We have a guest," interrupted Lydia. She moved out of the way of the door, revealing a very awkward-looking Stiles Stilinski.

"Hey, Derek," said Stiles, smiling sheepishly while he rubbed the back of his neck. "You, um, you left your phone last night, and I thought I'd come and give it back to you…"

He saw Stiles' eyes sweep over the disgruntled form of Derek.

"Nice pants, by the way," said Stiles, trying, and failing miserably, to hide a smirk.

'_Fuck,' thought Derek. 'Of course he comes and I'm in my fucking Batman pyjamas.'_

"I'll be right back," said Derek, leaping up the stairs.

He raced into his bedroom and threw on some black jeans and a red shirt. He leapt out of the room and in his eagerness, knocked over his alarm clock.

When he reached the stairs, Derek paused. Stiles was in the kitchen, sitting on a stool in front of the breakfast bar, talking to Lydia. Derek could smell coffee brewing as he tried to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"So, do you think you would, like, want to make a commitment? Make it an official 'thing' with Derek?" asked Lydia.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I think I might really like him, but it's only been _one date, _so I think maybe another date before anything is official?" answered Stiles.

"But, like, do you think it could go further? I mean, the ass on the guy is _ridiculous. _Imagine what it'd be like-"

Derek walked into the room so that Lydia wouldn't finish her sentence. God, she needed to learn to _shut up._

"Hey, Stiles, sorry to keep you waiting," said Derek, smiling and sliding into the stool beside him, putting some toast in the toaster on his way.

"Nah, dude, it's cool. I usually don't get up before twelve, but I _may _have taken too much Adderall last night by mistake," said Stiles, bouncing his knee.

"How much Adderall did you have, Stiles?" asked Lydia, pouring coffees for herself and Stiles.

"So I was nervous, and my hand slipped, and like ten fell out, and I may or may not have had them all," said Stiles.

"Isn't that dangerous?" asked Lydia, handing Stiles his coffee.

"Nah, not really. I used to do it all the time, before exams and stuff. Scott and I would stay up the night before and cram all night," said Stiles, a smile working its way onto his thin lips.

Derek frowned.

"You shouldn't keep over-using, Adderall addiction is pretty common these days," said Derek. The toast popped out of the toaster, making all three jump.

"Yeah, I probably should. Oh, and here's your phone, Derek," said Stiles, reaching into his back pocket to take out the phone. He handed it to Derek, brushing his hand on the other man's. Derek jumped, a jolt of electricity running through him. Derek got up to retrieve his toast, shooting a look of gratitude towards Stiles.

"So, what are you up to today, Stiles?" asked Lydia.

"Oh, nothing, really. Dad's over at the office today, and I've got no plans, so pretty much just lazing around, I guess," said Stiles, sipping his coffee. "This is really good, Lydia, thank you."

Lydia gave Derek a look that said 'you better ask this man to stay or I will kick your ass for it later.'

"Um, would you like to stay here for the day?" asked Derek, busying himself buttering the toast. "I mean, if you want to."

Stiles grinned, eyes lighting up. "Yeah, sounds great, thanks," he said.

Lydia excused herself, spouting some excuses about going to see Scott's girlfriend, catch up with her.

The door slammed shut with a final "goodbye" from Lydia, leaving the two men alone. Jackson went to work really early; being a doctor had its perks, but there were downsides, too. One of which was the late-night/early morning pages.

"So, Stiles, what do you want to do?" Derek asked, washing Stiles' coffee mug.

Stiles shrugged. "Depends on your answer to a certain question," said Stiles, wiggling his eyebrows. Derek laughed; he thought they looked like caterpillars.

"Ask away," said Derek.

"How do you feel about Lord of the Rings?"

That is how an hour later, after an extensive raid of Derek's food supply and a quick shopping trip, Derek found himself in his living room, settled in to watch Fellowship of the Ring.

'_Oh my god,' _Thought Derek. _'I'm dating a nerd.'_

'_A very cute nerd,' _said a part of Derek's brain.

Derek's inner wolf howled in agreement. Lately, it'd been doing that quite a lot.

"You ready for this, Derek?" asked Stiles, placing a bowl of popcorn, a smaller bowl of icing sugar, cherry soda, Coke, chocolate and a packet of Redvines on the table.

"As ready as I'll ever be," sighed Derek, leaning back into the leather upholstery of his black couch.

"That's the spirit, Derek," said Stiles, shooting Derek a grin. He hit play on the DVD, grabbed a Redvine and lay back, moving Derek's arm so it was around him.

"Scoot, your butt's kicking me off," said Stiles, poking Derek. They re-adjusted until they were both comfortable.

Derek spent most of the movie just watching Stiles. He was entranced, something he hadn't been for a good while. Stiles' occasional commentary made it better.

"Bilbo! You are one sly motherfucker."

"Yeah! Arwen! You drown those motherfuckers!"

"Oh my god, Gandalf! Fuck you, Balrog!" Stiles threw popcorn at the screen at this point.

This continued for pretty much the entire movie. And the one after that. And the one after that.

When they finally finished the third movie, it was about 8:30.

"Holy crap! Dude, that did so _not _feel like eight hours. What the actual hell?" exclaimed Stiles. "Shit, my dad!"

Stiles ran for his phone, calling his father.

"Dad, hey, are you at home? Yeah, I'm okay; I'm at Derek's house. Derek's my… Derek's my boyfriend. Dad, no. Oh, my god, Dad. Ew. Ew. Ew. Eeeeeeeeew. No, dear god. Listen, are you- wait, what? A girl? Oh my god. DAD. Melissa? Really? Fine, fine. OKAY. Let me ask."

Stiles removed the phone from his ear. "Listen, Derek," he started.

"You can stay here, if you want," said Derek, fiddling with his shirt hem.

Stiles grinned. "Really? Great, just hold on one sec."

Derek nodded, and Stiles raised the phone to his ear.

"Dad, I'm staying at Derek's. Yeah, I'll just drop around and get like – oh my god, Dad, STOP. I was saying I was getting my TOOTHBRUSH. Christ, have you been hanging around Lydia or something? Okay, well I'll be there in like ten, okay? Okay, bye. Love you."

Stiles hung up.

"Boyfriend, huh?" said Derek, grinning.

"Yes, you're my boyfriend. Now, boyfriend, shut up. I need to drop in at mine to get clothes and whatever, so do you want to wait here, or…?" asked Stiles.

"I'll come with. Knowing you, and your eating habits, you'll forget your toothbrush and pack your bag completely with food. And, besides, isn't it the boyfriend's prerogative to meet the parents?" Derek asked, smirking. Stiles rolled his eyes, tilting his head towards the door.

"Come on, then," he said.

**Sorry, I had to cut it off there. I'm trying to update sooner, but school just started, so there's work and tumblr and family and extracurricular stuff and my schedule's a little crazy right now, so bear with me. **

**Anyway, here's the second chapter. Up next is a friendly little chat with Derek about Stiles, courtesy of Sheriff Stilinski**

**Reviews are appreciated greatly **


	3. Chapter 3

They arrived at the Stilinski household in minutes. Derek made it just past the door when he heard a gun being loaded.

Derek froze. He looked around to Stiles, who shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Dad, seriously? Put away the gun," he said.

"Hello, Derek," said Sheriff Stilinski, placing the gun on the table. "How do you do?"

He offered Derek his hand, and Derek took it, shaking it before stepping backwards.

"I'm fine, sir, how are you?" Derek replied, establishing eye contact.

"I'm going to go pack," said Stiles, practically sprinting up the stairs.

"I'm good, Derek. Come have a seat," said the Sheriff, patting the couch beside him.

Derek walked over and cautiously sat on the very edge of the couch. He swallowed, his mouth dry. He really shouldn't be this nervous. I mean, he was a fucking _werewolf _for Christ's sake; he's fought much worse than a Sheriff with bullets that would do him no harm whatsoever. Well, nothing he couldn't heal from, anyway.

"What are your intentions towards my son," said the Sheriff, picking up the gun and a cleaning cloth.

"Well, sir, we only went on our first date yesterday, and had a Lord of the Rings marathon today, so nothing drastic right now. My only intentions at the moment are to get to know him better and hopefully go on more dates in the future," replied Derek, swallowing hard again.

The Sheriff began to polish the exterior of the gun.

"Good boy, Derek. Now, my wife is no longer with me, so Stiles is all I have," said the Sheriff, pausing his cleaning to look at Derek. "So, if you hurt him, things between us may become somewhat… shall we say, difficult."

"What do you mean, Sir?" asked Derek, trying not to look too frightened.

"Well, let's just say that if you hurt Stiles, things may get messy. I might find you in a robbery," said the Sheriff. "Or, maybe, stealing a car. You will run, and I will give chase. Of course, I don't catch you, so I have to open fire. Do I make myself clear, Derek?"

"Yes, sir. Crystal," said Derek, maintaining the man's gaze.

Stiles bounded down the stairs with a full bag. "You ready to go, Derek?"

"Yeah," replied Derek, sighing with relief.

"See you, Stiles. Be safe," said the Sheriff.

"Sure thing, dad. See you tomorrow!" called Stiles, pushing Derek out of the door.

"Let me guess, he gave you the whole 'if-you-hurt-him-I-shoot-you' speech, didn't he?" asked Stiles on their way to the car.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" asked Derek, grabbing Stiles' hand and interlacing their fingers.

"You're really pale right now. Like, Edward Cullen pale," said Stiles, giving Derek's hand a squeeze. Derek frowned. He shouldn't be _this _scared by the Sheriff. "Aw, don't worry, Derek. He gives the speech to everyone. And besides, you're kinda cute."

Stiles turned and gripped Derek's shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. Derek smiled and pressed his lips to Stiles'.

Stiles hummed in approval and deepened the kiss, sliding his arms around Derek's neck, pulling him closer. Derek slid his hands around Stiles' waist.

They broke the kiss, just standing there with their arms around each other for a while. Derek's inner wolf was purring. _Purring,_ for God's sake. What the hell was this kid doing to him?

They managed to get in the car eventually, Stiles making it back to Derek's apartment in record time. Derek got out of the car and groaned.

"What's wrong?" asked Stiles, concern flooding his features.

"Lydia's home," said Derek.

No further explanation was needed for Stiles, the statement was pretty self-explanatory.

"Oh," he said, frowning just a little. "Do you want me to go stay at Scott's? Because I can totally do that."

"No, no it's not you," said Derek, reaching for the other man's hand. "Don't ever think it's you. It's just… Lydia gets a little… graphic, sometimes, in her questions."

Stiles smiled. "Yeah, I get that. She was pretty close to getting very graphic this morning. With her questions, I mean."

Derek grimaced, remembering the turn of the conversation that morning.

Stiles grabbed his hand, motioning towards the door. They entered the door together, hand in hand.

"Lydia, Stiles is staying here tonight," Derek called, bracing himself.

"If that's okay with you," added Stiles quickly.

_'3, 2…' _thought Derek

As his interior countdown reached one, Lydia leapt out of the kitchen.

"Oh my god, hey Stiles! Is curried tuna okay for dinner? I've already made enough for the three of us," Lydia said, beaming.

"Yeah, I love tuna. And how did you-"

"You think Melissa McCall _wouldn't_ ask me for advice for her date? Please," scoffed Lydia, doing her signature hair flip. "As soon as your dad invited her over she called me in hysterics. It seems I am the relationship guru of Beacon Hills."

Derek and Stiles shared a puzzled look.

"Stiles, come upstairs, we'll put your stuff down," said Derek, eager for an escape.

Stiles followed Derek up the stairs hastily. Lydia is pretty fucking intimidating, Derek had to admit.

Derek showed Stiles to his bedroom, sheepishly adjusting the doona on his bed. "So, Stiles, where do you want to sleep?" Derek asked, kicking off his shoes and bending to put them on the floor of his cupboard.

"Um, the couch is cool," said Stiles, trying not to stare at Derek's butt (and failing quite horrendously).

Derek straightened, catching a glimpse at Stiles' perusal of his ass. He smirked.

"You can't sleep on the _couch_," said Derek. "You can sleep here. I mean, it's a King bed, for Christ's sake, it's not like we're going to be _right next to each other _or anything."

Stiles blushed. "You sure you're okay with that?" he asked, moving towards Derek.

"Would I be offering if I wasn't?" replied Derek with a grin. He closed the space between them, pressing his lips to Stiles'.

Stiles smiled into the kiss, slipping his arms around Derek's neck. "I guess not."

Derek placed a light kiss to Stiles' forehead, breaking the embrace. "Let's go see how Lydia's doing, shall we?"

Derek offered his arm to Stiles. Stiles grinned, accepting it.

"It's _so_ hard to find a man who appreciates chivalry these days," said Stiles, faking a British accent. "Pip, pip! Tally hoe!"

Derek groaned, a smile betraying his second-hand embarrassment. They made their way down the stairs and went into the kitchen, grabbing seats at the breakfast bar. Lydia was stirring the curry.

"Hey, where's Jackson tonight? He's usually here trying to eat all of the food before it's done," said Derek, reaching under the breakfast bar and grabbing Stiles' hand. He squeezed and felt Stiles squeeze back.

"Oh, he's at Danny's. Something about needing back up?" replied Lydia.

"Back up?" asked Stiles, a look of confusion on his freckled face.

"It's a code we made up," explained Lydia. "If a date goes badly, Danny texts Jackson and he comes over, pretending to be Danny's partner. And, as you well know, Jackson's pretty fucking scary."

Stiles nodded. "Wait, didn't that happen on an episode of How I Met Your Mother?" he asked, smiling.

"Yep," replied Derek. "That's where we got the idea from."

"Jackson's a closeted HIMYM fan," said Lydia, scooping rice into three plates. "He'd never admit it, but he's seen all of the seasons."

Stiles laughed. "I think it's kind of impossible to not be a fan of HIMYM," countered Stiles.

"Touché," said Lydia, handing Derek and Stiles their plates.

Derek inhaled deeply. He smelt curry powder, flour and milk. "Smells great, Lydia," said Derek, taking a small bite. A look of complete bliss passed over his sharp features.

"Did you expect any less from the residential cook?" asked Lydia, hand on her hip.

"Why are you the cook?" asked Stiles, taking a bite.

_'Oh my god,' _thought Stiles. _'This is the best fucking meal. Ever.'_

Lydia grinned. "Sweetie, the face you just made? That's why I'm the cook."

After dinner, the three stayed up and chatted. At about midnight, Lydia yawned, bidding the two men goodnight.

Derek yawned. "Bed sounds like a really great idea right now," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"I concur," said Stiles, standing up. He grabbed Derek's hand and tugged in the direction of the stairs. "Come on."

They made their way to Derek's bedroom. Stiles grabbed his pyjamas, sheepishly requesting that Derek turn around. Derek smirked, but agreed, pulling on his pyjamas from earlier that day. Stiles saw the Batman pants and grinned.

"Did I ever tell you that I wanted to be Batman as a kid?" said Stiles, tying the string on his grey sleep pants.

Derek turned around, eyeing Stiles' sleepwear.

'_Oh,' _thought Derek. _'No shirt.'_

'_I think I can live with that,' _said another part of him.

He smiled, pulling Stiles in for a hug. "No," he said, kissing Stiles' nose. "But that is incredibly cute."

They went to Derek's bathroom and brushed their teeth. Derek decided to strip off his shirt, too. Just to make Stiles feel comfortable.

'_Bullshit,' _part of him said. _'You just want to smell Stiles' attraction to you.'_

And smell attraction he did. He heard Stiles' heart rate increase, a blush creeping its way onto his cheeks.

"Come on, let's get to bed," said Derek, grinning at the shade of red his boyfriend was turning.

Stiles lifted the covers, crawling underneath and turning his back to Derek. He moved close to the end of the bed.

Derek chuckled. "Come on, I don't bite," he said, pulling Stiles into a spooning position.

Stiles smiled, shuffling back so that his body was right up against Derek's.

"Goodnight, Derek," said Stiles sleepily.

"Night, Stiles," Derek replied, kissing him on the forehead.

Derek hears Stiles' heartbeat slow, signalling the young man was asleep. Derek listened to the beat, letting the steady rhythm pull him into oblivion.

**Sorry, guys, this chapter is kind of sucky. I'm working on limited time here, so please don't be **_**too**_ **angry with me. As always, reviews are appreciated, and constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks for reading **


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles woke up at about ten the next morning. He groaned, stretching. When his hand made contact with another man's warm chest, he shrieked, falling off the bed and onto his ass.

Derek sat up quickly, whipping his head around.

"Stiles?"

Stiles got up, a blush creeping onto his freckled face.

"Sorry, Derek" said Stiles, looking down and fidgeting. "I don't usually sleep with anyone, and I got a little freaked out."

Derek smiled understandingly. "That's okay, Stiles. It's about time we got up, anyway," he said, moving across the room to grab Stiles' hand.

He smiled, interlocking their fingers. He let Derek lead him across the room, down the stairs and out into the kitchen. There they found Lydia, frying up some bacon, wearing her pink pyjama pants and a pastel pink singlet, her hair twisted into a messy bun on top of her head.

"Hey, guys. Sleep well?" she asked, winking at Stiles.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Yes, Lydia. Quite soundly, actually," he replied.

"All night, too," added Stiles, eliciting a laugh from Lydia and a half-smirk from Derek.

"That's good," said Lydia, grabbing the hashbrowns out of the oven and reaching to get some bread for the toaster.

"Is Jackson still at Danny's?" asked Derek, brewing some coffee for himself and Stiles. Lydia sipped on her own coffee as she flipped the bacon onto a tray.

"No, he was called into work," Lydia said. "They needed a hand with some stuff early this morning."

Stiles smiled at the thought of Jackson helping Ms McCall out at the hospital. Jackson was in med school, but when he wasn't at college or home, he was helping out the staff at the hospital.

Stiles and Jackson had never gotten along back in high school, and Stiles had received a beating from him more than once. Lydia, though, was Stiles' best friend. Once he'd stopped making advances towards her and finally come out, Lydia and he got along much better and became very close. Scott, being too busy fawning over Allison, hadn't even noticed the absence of the hyperactive teen. So Stiles moved on. He'd only been allowed to sit with Lydia because Scott had dragged him along to double dates between Allison, himself, Jackson and Lydia.

'_Thank god for Scott's ignorance,' _thought Stiles. _'Otherwise I may not have been friends with Lydia.'_

"So what's the plan for today?" Lydia asked, dishing out breakfast.

"I have a feeling papa Stilinski will want to spend some quality time with the fresh meat," said Stiles. "So my house is a no-go."

Lydia chuckled, having experienced Stiles' dad's interrogations. The Sheriff had mistaken Lydia as Stiles' girlfriend. It seems that though Stiles had come out to his friends, his dad hadn't gotten the memo. Hadn't _that _been awkward to explain? Lydia cringed at the memory.

"Yeah, I'd say that's pretty safe," she said. "I take it he's had the if-you-hurt-him-I-shoot-you talk?"

Derek shook his head, grimacing. "That man is terrifying," he said.

"You don't know the half of it," said Lydia. "Wait 'til you get to the safe sex talk."

Sties and Derek simultaneously choked on their coffees.

"When did he give you _that _talk?!" Stiles wailed.

"When were you two having _sex?!" _cried Derek at the same time.

Lydia cracked up, doubling over in laughter.

She composed herself, letting the two boys opposite her calm down.

"Well, Derek, I don't know if Stiles told you, but way back when he was straight, Stiles had a devastatingly cute and simultaneously horrendously pathetic crush on me," began Lydia, smiling fondly. "He used to talk about this 'ten-year plan' to seduce me. Anyway, so he came out to me, we became friends, etcetera, etcetera. Stiles hadn't come out to his dad yet, and he'd talked about loving me for about eight years straight, so when I came over his dad thought we were dating and gave me the safe sex talk."

Stiles looked like he was about to keel over in his seat. Derek, though, looked relieved.

"Good to know," said Stiles in a strangled voice, turning his attention to his half-eaten breakfast.

Later, Stiles and Derek were on the couch watching some terrible reality TV when Stiles turned to Derek.

"Have you heard of the question game?" he asked, looking up at the older man, which was slightly awkward from the position he was in (Derek had his arm wrapped around Stiles).

"No, what is it?" replied Derek, releasing Stiles so they could turn to face each other.

"Well, we've been on two dates, and I've slept in your bed, but I know absolutely nothing about you," said Stiles. "So, I ask you a question. You answer, you reply with a question. Simple enough?"

Derek nodded.

"Okay," Stiles said. He switched off the TV. "So, to begin with. What is your full name?"

Derek snorted. "Really? We're doing that?" at Stiles' attempt at a glare, Derek held up his hands. "Alright, alright. My name is Derek Alexander Hale. Now, what is your favourite colour?"

"Green," replied Stiles, blushing. "Like the colour of your eyes."

Derek found himself turning a bit pink, too.

They went on like this for about an hour, both learning some… interesting information about the other.

At one, Stiles grabbed his stuff from Derek's room. He kissed Derek on the cheek, telling the man to give him a call soon. He hugged Lydia, giving the same instructions.

Stiles arrived home to an embarrassed father and a semi-naked Ms McCall, which was at the very least incredibly awkward.

Stiles averted his eyes, pretending not to see his ex-best-friend's mother putting her bra back on.

"So I take it the date went well, then?" he joked, knowing full well the reaction would be negative.

"Piss off, Stiles," grumbled the Sheriff.

"Right you are, pops," replied Stiles, sprinting into his room. He turned on his laptop, going on Facebook. He had a friend request from Derek, a notification about a party he was going to and a message from Lydia. He accepted Derek's request, then clicked onto Lydia's message.

_Hey Stiles, I was thinking of having a party for Jackson this weekend, it being his birthday and all. Thoughts?_

_Sounds great, as long as Derek's invited, _replied Stiles.

_Duh, idiot. He lives here. Kind of hard to uninvited a resident, y'know? _Stiles laughed. _And anyway, you'd sit there like a kicked puppy if he wasn't._

_Will Scott be there? _Stiles typed.

_Not if you don't want him to be, _came the answer.

_It's fine, don't go to any trouble, _he replied.

_Nothing short of hauling the moon's shiny ass down here is trouble for me, sweetie._

Stiles grinned. _Listen, I have to go. Call me later?_

_Sure thing._

Stiles logged off and sighed. It was only two.

'_What to do?' _he thought.

Stiles ended up watching the Doctor Who marathon that was on TV. Matt Smith was just about to try fish fingers and custard when his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Stiles," answered Scott.

"Um, what's up?" Stiles asked awkwardly. Scott hadn't talked to Stiles since graduation, which had been a good six months ago.

"You're dating _Derek Hale _is what's up!" Scott said.

"And? What's your fucking problem," replied Stiles, suddenly furious at his old friend.

"My fucking problem is that you're dating a dude! And that the dude happens to be Derek Hale!" yelled Scott.

Stiles was taken aback. "You're angry because I'm _GAY? _I mean, I knew you were ignorant, but homophobic, too? God, Scott, you're such a catch," shot back Stiles. "And what the fuck is wrong with Derek?"

"I'm _angry, _Stiles, because Derek is dangerous. I mean, Allison's dad says he's killed people!" yelled Scott.

"You don't know _shit,_ Scott. And I don't trust Allison's dad as far as I can throw him. So don't bother talking to me again, or insulting me, or my boyfriend. Just fuck off, Scott, I don't need you anymore!" Stiles yelled, hanging up. He exhaled deeply.

_Lydia? I might need some help to haul the moon's shiny ass down here, _Stiles typed, sending the text.

_Alright, Stiles, _came the reply.

Stiles went to his cupboard and took out his sleeping pills.

'_I need to not be alive for a while,' _he thought. He took two, lay back in his bed and tuned back into Doctor Who. Within five minutes, he was asleep.

**Sorry guys, this sucks so badly. I wanted to get something up. As an apology for being late, I'll try to write something tomorrow.**

**As always, reviews are appreciated and constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks for reading **


	5. Chapter 5

It'd been a couple of days since their last date and Lydia's party was the next day. Derek had been busy at work, so he hadn't yet had the chance to talk to Stiles.

'_I think I'll call him up,' _thought Derek. He grabbed out his phone and pressed on Stiles' number.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, Stiles," replied Derek.

"_It's about damn time you called me," _said Stiles. Derek chuckled.

"Sorry. Come over and I'll make it up to you?" Derek asked tentatively.

"_Sure, I'll be there in ten," _said Stiles. Derek hung up the phone and placed it on his desk.

He ran around frantically cleaning his room. He changed into a pair of black skinny jeans, a white tee and his leather jacket while checking everything was in its place before going downstairs and repeating his bordering on OCD cleaning routine.

He was just straightening the remotes on his coffee table when the doorbell rang. Derek walked over to the door and threw it open, pulling Stiles into a bone-crushing hug and only releasing him to kiss him until both men were breathless.

Stiles pulled away, gasping to regain his breath. "I forgive you."

Derek laughed, pecking Stiles on the cheek. "Good. I don't know how I would survive if you were still mad at me," Derek wailed, throwing a hand over his forehead dramatically.

"Hey, mister, I'm the funny one in this relationship," said Stiles, batting Derek's arm. "And, by the way, when did you grow a sense of humour?"

Derek laughed. "If you're the funny one, what does that make me?" he asked. "And I've always had a sense of humour; I just never get the chance to showcase it."

"It makes you the… fair point, I don't know what it makes you," said Stiles. "So, what are we doing today, oh humour guru?"

"I was thinking 80s movie marathon," said Derek.

Stiles nodded. "Sounds good, as long as you've got good food," he said. He moved to the kitchen, pulling out food for the movies. "Which 80s movies are you thinking?"

"Well, the best ones," said Derek, putting popcorn in the microwave. "The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, 10 Things I Hate About You, 16 Candles and Dirty Dancing."

"I approve. Just so we're clear," began Stiles. "The Breakfast Club is the best 80s movie."

"No way! Pretty in Pink is the best," said Derek.

"Dude, no," said Stiles. "For one thing, Judd Nelson isn't in it."

The two continued their argument while they waited for the popcorn to finish. They then settled down to watch the movies.

"Which one do you think you are?" asked Stiles while the two men were watching The Breakfast Club.

"Huh?" asked Derek. "What do you mean?"

Stiles turned to face Derek. "I mean out of the characters."

"Oh," said Derek, a slight frown making its way onto his face. "In that case… definitely the criminal."

Stiles laughed. "And why do you say that?" he asked.

"Because, sweets. You couldn't ignore me if you tried," said Derek, grinning with a sly expression on his face. He leaned in and captured Stiles' lips in a kiss.

Stiles scooted closer, taking Derek's arm and putting it around him.

"That was so fucking cheesy," he said in-between kisses.

"I know," said Derek, smiling. "Under all of this masculinity is more masculinity, and then deeper is more masculinity, but then deeper is a little cheesy boy waiting for his prince to come and make references to The Breakfast Club with him."

Stiles punched him in the arm. "You're not_ that _masculine, idiot."

Derek chuckled. "You'll just have to wait to see how masculine I really am," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Stiles choked, cheeks flushing. "Let's finish the movie," he managed to say.

They watched another two movies, then Stiles said his goodbyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow," said Stiles, pulling Derek in for a final kiss.

"Don't you forget about me," said Derek, smiling.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Seriously? I thought these jokes couldn't get worse. This is _so _why I'm the funny one," he said, smiling.

Derek gave Stiles one last kiss on the cheek and let Stiles walk to his Jeep.

When Stiles was reversing, he looked in the rear-view mirror to see Derek standing there with his fist in the air. Stiles smiled. "Idiot," he muttered

Derek smiled, his werewolf hearing allowing him to pick up what Stiles had said. "You too," he muttered.

Derek had nothing to do for the day until Lydia got home, so he decided to go for a run. He hadn't run in what felt like forever, and the weather was clear, so today was a day as good as any. Derek decided he would go to his old property; he hadn't been there in years.

He changed into a pair of sports pants, a singlet and his sneakers. He drove to his old house and started off at a jog. He dodged the trees and picked up the pace, running at his full pace as a human. As he ran, he changed, letting his canines extend and his claws flick out. He started picking his pace up to werewolf speed. The trees and shrubbery he ran past blurred because of his speed. He heard a click, and the sound of an arrow being unloaded.

'_Shit,' _he thought. _'Hunters.'_

Derek stopped running. He dodged the arrow, running towards the direction of the arrow. He stopped when he saw Chris Argent.

"Chris," Derek growled. "What are you doing? We have a truce."

Chris made his way over to Derek. "Sorry, Derek. We've had reports of a rogue werewolf running around the town," said Chris. "You haven't been here in a while, and we were doing checks, and we heard you, so we pursued. My apologies."

Chris extended his hand. Derek ignored it. "Okay, Chris. I'm leaving now, so continue your search," he said. Chris nodded. "Please inform me next time you want to search my property, though."

Chris nodded, and Derek started to jog back to his car, completely human. He picked up his pace and was back to his Camaro in about ten minutes.

The drive home was short, and when he got home Lydia still wasn't there. Derek went upstairs and had a shower, changing into some sweat pants and a dark blue shirt so he could move furniture for the party later, when Lydia came back.

Derek put on some music, _My Body _by Young the Giant blasting through his speakers. He hummed along to the tune while he made himself a quick snack.

An hour later, Lydia arrived at the house.

"Derek! Get off your lazy ass and help me put away these god damn groceries!" she yelled.

Derek scrambled to open the door and help Lydia. She smiled at him.

"Good boy," she said, patting his head. They put away the groceries, both singing along to the music played from Derek's iPod. After all was put away, Lydia sat down and sketched what she thought would be a good placement of the furniture for the party. Derek gave advice occasionally, but not often.

After they'd planned where everything was going to go, Lydia went upstairs to figure out what she was going to wear while Derek moved the furniture. When Derek was done, he went to go see how Lydia was going. She'd tried on five outfits and was now picking between a short, floral form-fitting dress or a pink peplum top and a black skirt.

"What do you think?" she asked, spinning for him.

"I think the skirt and top, they match those platforms you bought last week," said Derek.

Lydia nodded sagely. "That's what I was thinking, too."

She went and sat down next to Derek.

"So, who's even invited to the party?" asked Derek.

"Good question," replied Lydia. "As far as I know, mostly friends from high school."

Derek raised his eyebrows. "Like who, for example?"

"Stiles, obviously, Danny, Allison, Scott… Wait, Scott's uninvited," said Lydia, pursing her lips. "Greenburg, Boyd, Erica, Isaac-"

"Wait, why isn't Scott invited?" asked Derek, eyebrows furrowed. He'd bitten Scott only a little after Jackson had found him, but him and the boy didn't talk much.

"Ask your boyfriend," replied Lydia.

"I might just do that," mumbled Derek, stepping out into the hall. He dialled Stiles' number.

"_Hey, Derek."_

"Hey, Stiles. How'd you know it was me?" he asked.

"_I changed your ringtone to Batman," _said Stiles, laughing. Derek blushed. _"What's up?"_

Derek inhaled deeply. "Why isn't Scott invited to Lydia's tomorrow?" he asked.

There was silence.

Derek heard Stiles sigh. _"Because he's an idiot," _he said.

Derek snorted. "I think most toddlers are more intelligent than Scott," said Derek, eliciting a laugh from Sties. "But what's he done?"

"_He was rude. It's nothing."_

"It's obviously something," said Derek. "If you don't tell me, I'm coming over there and tickling you until you either reveal all or pee your pants. Don't worry, though, I'll be a safe distance away."

Stiles laughed, but his voice was devoid of humour. _"He said some offensive stuff. No big deal. Tell Lydia to re-invite him."_

"No, seriously," said Derek. "Tell me what he said."

"_Fine," _said Stiles. _"He was being stupid about us dating, and me being gay. Now tell Lydia he's invited, okay?"_

Derek sighed. "Fine, but if he says anything to you, I'm kicking the crap out of him, your friend or not."

Stiles smiled. _"He's not my friend, so crap-kicking is encouraged."_

"Okay. I have to go, see you tomorrow," said Derek,

"_Bye."_

When he got back, he helped Lydia decide how to do her hair, what makeup to use and how exactly to greet her guests.

It had taken them a good four hours to organize the house and Lydia's outfits, and both Lydia and Derek were starving. Jackson walked in as Lydia was serving the dishes.

"Hey, Jackson," said both Lydia and Derek.

"Hey, guys. Smells great," said Jackson, sniffing the air. "Was Stiles here?"

Derek knew Jackson could smell Stiles everywhere. Though Lydia was human, Jackson was a werewolf, obviously unbeknownst to his girlfriend. At the end of senior year, Jackson was walking in the woods and found Derek wolfed out. It hadn't taken him too long to ask for the bite after that.

"Yeah, he came over and we watched movies," said Derek. Jackson smiled.

"How's that going, by the way?" he asked.

"It's going really well," replied Derek, biting the chicken Lydia had prepared.

"That's good," replied Jackson. "Is he coming tomorrow?"

"Yeah," replied Derek. "Oh, and Stiles told me to tell you to reinvite Scott for tomorrow, Lydia."

Lydia sighed. "Alright," she said. "He didn't tell me what was going on, but I'm glad he's past it."

Derek nodded in agreement. He ate the rest of his meal in silence and went upstairs to bed, feeling miserable for Stiles and angry at Scott. He'd have to have a word with the kid tomorrow.

**Hah, two chapters in two days. It's an unknown concept, I know! I took a sick day to write this, so you guys should so review **

**As always, reviews are appreciated and constructive criticism is welcomed. Thanks for reading **


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles woke up on the day of the party to his phone ringing. He grumbled, rubbing his eyes and fumbling for his phone on his bedside table.

"Hello?" he said.

"_Hey, Stiles," _he heard Allison say. He looked at the alarm clock beside his bed; it was eleven.

"What's up, Ally?" said Stiles, sitting up.

"_Lydia called me," _she said. Stiles groaned. _"What happened with Scott?"_

Allison had been dating Scott since high school. Stiles wondered why she was calling for him.

"Nothing, really," Stiles said, rubbing his forehead. "He was just being an idiot. It's fine."

"_If anyone knows about Scott being an idiot, it's me," _said Allison. _"Are you going to the party tonight?"_

"Yeah," Stiles replied. "You?"

"_Yeah, Scott and I are coming," _she said. _"We don't have to come if you don't want us to."_

"No! No, I don't want to ruin it for you," said Stiles. "Lydia wants to see you, and anyway, Scott isn't _too _bad. Like, I don't _have _to talk to him. It'll be fine."

"_If you're sure," _said Allison.

"Yeah, it'll be fine," Stiles insisted. "And plus, my boyfriend said he'd kick the crap out of Scott if he stepped out of line."

"_Wait, boyfriend?!" _screeched Allison. Stiles swore under his breath. _"Who is it? What's he like? Is he hot? Wait, is that why Scott was muttering about you not telling him? Oh my god, what an-"_

"Yes, boyfriend, Allison," said Stiles. "It's Derek Hale. He lives with Lydia and Jackson? And yeah, that's why I'm mad at Scott. He made some pretty derogatory comments that I didn't quite appreciate and he insulted Derek."

"_Shit, man. He's so not getting sex. Like, ever again," _said Allison. Stiles laughed. _"Anyway, good for you. I'll see you tonight."_

"See you then, Allison," said Stiles. He clicked the end button and flopped back onto his mattress, sighing deeply.

He got up and stumbled into the shower, scrubbing his body clean and standing under the hot flow of water.

He heard a crash and the shattering of some glass. He turned off the water, hastily rushing out of the shower and slinging a towel onto his hips. He grabbed the baseball bat he kept in the stairwell for… well, something like this. I mean, he _was _the Sheriff's boy, after all.

He slowly approached the source of the commotion; his bedroom. His grip tightened on the bat as he inched closer to the door.

He grabbed the doorknob, turning it slowly. He opened the door slightly, trying to see who had broken into his home. He saw nothing, so he threw open the door, bat positioned behind his head so if he needed to hit something, he'd hit it hard. He ran in, preparing to strike when-

He saw Scott. On the floor. Surrounded by broken glass.

He screamed, flinching.

"Dude, what the fuck!" screamed Stiles. "What the fuck are you doing in my room?"

"I don't want you to be mad at me, dude!" yelled Scott. "I called you, and you didn't answer your phone!"

"Dude I was in the shower! What the fuck!" yelled Stiles, bat still raised. "And how the fuck did you get in here, anyway?"

"I'm sorry, okay! I just don't want you to be mad at me!" yelled Scott, standing up. He pointed to the window. "I climbed through the window."

Stiles felt his jaw fall open. "Dude, that's two stories. There's not even a ledge," he said in disbelief. Scott was good at sports, sure, but good enough to clear two stories? Stiles didn't think so.

Scott shrugged. "There's shit we need to talk about," he said, as if that explained everything.

Stiles groaned. "Seriously, dude? You break into my fucking house to lecture me about my boyfriend! You homophobic asshole!" he yelled, throwing the bat on the ground purely so he could throw his hands in the air.

Scott stood with a determined look on his face. "It's about Derek, yes. But just so you know, Stiles, I'm perfectly okay with you being gay. I'm just shocked because you didn't tell me," said Scott, stepping tentatively towards his old friend. "But Derek _is _dangerous, Stiles. Trust me on that."

"How the fuck am I meant to trust you?" cried Stiles. "You fucking break into my house, you haven't talked to me since graduation; we haven't even been _friends _since you ditched me for Allison! You didn't even notice I was gone, did you? And now you come in here by _breaking in _and insulting my boyfriend and you expect me to _trust you!"_

Scott looked at his feet. "I'm sorry, dude. I really am. I didn't mean to ditch you, I was just so caught up on Allison, and I had some other shit going on. Which I will explain to you, if you'll let me," he said, looking up. "And I noticed. God, you don't know how much I missed you. I loved Allison, and I still do, but she's not you. I looked for you, you know. I saw you sitting with them. I thought you were better off without me, so I left you to be with them."

Stiles was speechless. Not once in his life had Scott ever been this… emotional.

"I-" Stiles began. He couldn't think of what to say, "Explain, then."

So Scott sat down and explained to him. He explained that he, Derek, Jackson and some other kids were werewolves. He explained that Derek was the alpha, and this meant that he was more volatile than the others.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked, concerned. He sniffed Stiles.

Stiles was about to ask him why the _fuck_ he was smelling him, but then he remembered. He's a werewolf. They smell things.

Stiles laughed. "You're a werewolf," he mumbled. "My best friend is a freaking werewolf."

Scott's eyes widened. Stiles noticed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, asshat, you're my best friend again. At least you've explained why you were being such a douchewad," he said, punching Scott's arm lightly. "But don't ever try to hide shit like this from me again."

Scott smiled, happy to have been forgiven.

"So what's up with you and Derek? Why don't you want me going out with him?" Stiles asked, eager for an answer.

Scott slowly sucked in a breath. "That one's a bit more complicated," Scott said.

He explained to him that Derek's family had been killed by hunters, how a hunter had tricked Derek into loving her and how Derek had been the one who bit him.

Scott left after that, figuring that Stiles needed time to digest, and Stiles was glad for it. After about ten minutes, he realized that he was still in a towel. Feeling stupid, he got up and changed into his clothes for Lydia's party. Nothing too extravagant; a Doctor Who shirt, some black skinny jeans and his red hoodie was his outfit of choice. He still had about an hour before he had to leave; Derek had told him to arrive early so that they'd have time alone together.

Stiles tried not to think too much about the fact that he'd be at a party with werewolves tonight. Or the fact that he was dating a werewolf. Or the fact that his rediscovered best friend was a werewolf. Or the fact that his other best friend's dating a werewolf.

Yep, life was about to get pretty freaking weird for Stiles Stilinski. He could feel it in his bones.

He decided to watch some TV to take his mind off things. In hindsight, maybe a bad idea.

First channel: Twilight.

Second channel: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

Third channel: Supernatural. Guess which episode? The motherfucking werewolf one.

Stiles decided: the universe officially hates him.

Stiles arrived at Derek's (weird that he wasn't calling it Lydia's anymore, even mentally) at about 5. He was more nervous than usual, but that could probably be attributed to the fact that he recently discovered his boyfriend was a _motherfucking werewolf. _As awesome as that little fact is, it's still kind of fucking terrifying, to put it mildly.

Also, it was fucking fascinating. Like, in the transformation, just _how much _of the person becomes a wolf? Like, would Derek ever have a-

_No,_ thinks Stiles. _I am not Lydia and I refuse to think that way._

He straightened himself and knocked on the door. It was answered by a very beautiful-looking Lydia Martin.

She grinned. "Hey, Stiles," she says, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek.

"Hey, isn't that meant to be my job?" Stiles heard Derek say. He froze, almost as if he was expecting a wolf to be moving towards him. Lydia smiled, pulling away and pushing Stiles towards Derek.

He was immediately surrounded by the warmth that was Derek's arms. As comforting as this was, he was struck by the sudden realization that the arms that were currently encompassing him could probably sprout claws. He felt his body tense.

Derek pulled away from the hug, tracing patterns that Stiles couldn't identify onto his arms. "You okay?" he asked, face full of concern.

Stiles pulled a smile onto his face. "Yeah, just nervous about tonight. Seeing all of the old school friends, you know?"

Derek accepted the answer, but was still frowning, so Stiles knew he didn't fool Derek. He kissed Derek's nose and separated them fully.

"So, Lydia, who's coming?" asked Stiles, trying to change the subject.

Lydia rattled off a quick list of people she'd given Derek the morning before.

"Ugh, Greenburg. Did you _really _have to invite him?" Stiles asked.

Lydia glared. "Yes, Stiles, I really did have to invite him. He and Jackson were close."

Stiles raised his eyebrows at her.

"Fine, he payed me $50. Just try not to gloat about that to people too much," she said, patting his shoulders.

Stiles grinned. "I knew it. I swear to god, that kid was less popular than I was," he said, taking Derek's arm and wrapping them around him. "That's saying something."

Lydia smiled. "You weren't _that_ unpopular. After me, definitely not," she said, ruffling his hair.

Derek smiled. "You were unpopular?" he asked, tracing the same pattern that he was tracing onto Stiles' arm earlier onto his hip.

Stiles smiled. "You wouldn't believe it. It's like I was a fucking leper or something," Stiles admitted, leaning back into Derek.

He could at least pretend Derek was normal. That'd be enough for him. I mean, the dude was so hot he was _bound _to have a problem. His just turned out to be… a little furrier than other people's.

Derek led him to the couch and sat down, tucking Stiles' head under his arm. They stayed on the couch and watched some daytime TV, Derek occasionally tracing patterns in Stiles' hair, making Stiles laugh, for about an hour before Lydia got them up.

"Come on, guys," she said. "Help me set up the food table."

They spent the next half hour arranging bowls of food and towers of glasses to Lydia's specifications. They finished in the nick of time; it had only been about five minutes since they had finished arranging things when the doorbell rang.

Lydia threw open the door, revealing Scott and Allison. Allison was wearing a black floral dress that brought out the colour of eyes and blue platforms that matched the colour of the dress. Scott, like Stiles, just wore a tee and a pair of jeans.

"Come on in!" Lydia said, pulling Allison in for a hug, kissing both of her cheeks while doing so. Scott edged in the door and approached Stiles, holding out his hand.

Stiles thought he heard a small growl emit from Derek, and thought he saw Scott's eyes flash, but dismissed it. They were werewolves; though Derek didn't know he knew yet, he would soon be dealing with growling and, apparently, flashy eyes on a regular basis,

He rolled his eyes, pulling Scott into a bone crushing hug, which the other boy returned with equal enthusiasm.

"Idiot," Stiles whispered in his eyes.

"Jerk," Scott replied, slapping his back. They released each other to find Derek giving Scott the evil-eye.

"It's fine, Derek," said Stiles. "We sorted it out."

Derek nodded, but pulled Stiles into his grasp. Scott got the message and backed off, going back to pry his girlfriend from the vice-like clutch that Lydia had on her.

The doorbell rang again and when the door was opened, Isaac, Erica and Isaac stood at the door. Lydia smiled, opening the door wider to accommodate the three newcomers.

They entered the room, each giving Derek a respectful nod and smiling at Stiles. Erica's eyes lingered on Stiles longer than he thought was entirely necessary, but he didn't mind all that much.

"How do you-" Stiles began, when he saw Scott shaking his head.

_They must be werewolves, too, _thought Stiles. _Weird._

"What?" asked Derek, pressing his nose to Stiles' neck.

"Don't worry," said Stiles, tilting his head so Derek had more access.

He spent the rest of the night mingling with his old classmates, cuddling with Derek, talking with Scott and generally having a good time. He crashed in Derek's bed at about one in the morning, letting Derek's body heat and the feel of his hands soothe him into sleep.

**Hey guys, I am actually so sorry about the lateness of this chapter it's not even funny. The day after I uploaded the last chapter, I went back to school and got given three assignments that all had drafts due this week and I got told I had a maths exam next Tuesday, so I've been super busy trying to catch up with all of that. I hope the length of this makes up for it. **

**Also, you'll notice that I changed the plot a bit so that Scott was a werewolf, but was only turned once he and Stiles were no longer friends, hence Stiles being oblivious to the supernatural. I changed a bit of the previous chapter to support the storyline. **

**As always, reviews are appreciated and constructive criticism is welcome. I'll try really hard to get something else up by the end of the weekend, but it's doubtful, so I apologize in advance. Have a good weekend **


	7. Chapter 7

Derek woke up with his arms wrapped around Stiles, who was currently snoring a little bit and drooling a lot. Derek smiled; Stiles looked so cute.

'_Fuck, I am so past gone here,' _Derek thought. _'The man's drooling and I'm calling him cute.'_

Derek listened to Stiles' heartbeat for a while, finding comfort in the steady beat. He looked at the clock; it was about nine. That meant Lydia would be getting up soon.

As if on cue, he heard Lydia stirring and padding to his bedroom. She opened the door and peeked her head around the corner. When she saw the two of them, she grinned, mouth 'aw' at Derek. He smiled and nodded.

Lydia left the room, presumably heading for the kitchen; Derek could hear her stomach growling from his _very _comfortable position in bed. He sighed, working his arm from under Stiles, careful not to disturb the sleeping man. Stiles grumbled a bit, pulling the sheets up, but it didn't look like he was going to wake up. Derek left the room, stumbling down the stairs and heading towards the scent of coffee.

Lydia was in the kitchen, already pouring a second cup of coffee. Derek slid into a stool behind the breakfast bar, graciously accepting the cup and sipping from it.

"So how do you think last night went?" asked Derek, stirring his coffee with his finger.

"I think I can safely say that it was a success," Lydia said, nodding. "I mean, everyone seemed to have fun. And, God, some people got hotter. Like did you see that Isaac Lahey kid? Phew!" Lydia said, fanning herself.

Derek laughed. Becoming a werewolf had certain perks, one of which was becoming more attractive to humans. He heard shuffling from the bedroom upstairs; Stiles was up.

"So what's a guy got to do to get breakfast around here?" he asked, entering the kitchen and sitting next to Derek, grabbing his hand.

Derek smiled. "Payment is accepted in the form of kisses," he said, squeezing Stiles' hand.

"Not for me, sweetcheeks," said Lydia, turning on the stove. "You're taking me shopping," she said, an evil glint in her eye that meant she was planning something.

Stiles groaned. "Last time we went shopping, it took six hours," he said, pouting.

Lydia smiled with an evil glint in her eye. As she fired up the stove, Derek put his other hand on Stiles'; encompassing the hand in what he hoped came across as a gesture of support.

"Well, last time I needed a complete wardrobe," said Lydia, shrugging. "And if you don't want to shop, don't bother expecting any food."

Stiles pouted. "Fine, shopping," he sighed.

While they waited for the food to be cooked, Derek and Stiles talked about the party.

"Did you have fun?" asked Derek, massaging Stiles' hands.

He nodded. "Yeah it was good to see everyone again," Stiles said. "Everyone's changed a lot, though. I mean, look at Erica! She's all… hot, and not, you know, seizure-y."

"Yeah, I noticed that, too," Lydia said, frying some bacon. "She said she saw a specialist and has some medication for it. So doesn't explain the hotness, though."

Stiles groaned. "Ugh, why is everyone else ten times hotter? It's been, like, three months and they already look like adults," he said. "I don't even look eighteen. And, like, Scott, Isaac, Erica, even Boyd, all look like super models. What happened to the pimply teenagers I knew?"

Lydia nodded. "I totally understand," she said, serving up the food and sliding it over the bench. "Like, I remember when Isaac was a shy kid whose dad was beating him up, and now look at him. He was practically the life of the party last night."

Stiles nodded. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked upset, so Derek was thankful when the scent of food finally distracted him from his thoughts. Stiles tore into his breakfast with the usual enthusiasm.

Derek ate his meal in silence, trying to figure out what was up with Stiles. He seemed… different. Unusually quiet. And the self-deprecating shit before? What the hell was that? He'd talk to him once Lydia left.

"So, Lydia, aren't you going to see Allison today?" he asked, giving Lydia a look that said 'get out of the fucking house'.

She nodded. "Yeah, we were thinking of driving out to the big outlet mall a town over," she said, raising one eyebrow at him. Derek nodded ever so slightly, knowing she'd pick it up. "She wants to get away from Scott for a day."

Stiles looked up at that. "Fair enough," he said. "As much as I love the man, he can be really annoying."

"So you and Scott made up, then?" Lydia asked, grabbing plates and putting them in the sink.

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. I mean, Scott wouldn't be Scott if he didn't accidentally offend someone every once in a while," he said. "And the whole breaking into my house to apologize thing was pretty damn awesome."

Derek's eyes widened and he had to restrain his anger so they didn't flash. Scott had _broken into his m- _

_Boyfriend. His boyfriend's house._

"He did _what_?" asked Derek, gritting his teeth. He and Scott would have to have a long talk about respect. Mainly, respecting the Alpha and his m-

'_Boyfriend,' _Derek reprimanded himself internally. _'You haven't even been dating for a week. He's not your mate.'_

'_Not yet, anyway,' _another part of him said.

Stiles eyes opened wide. "Dude, chill. He broke a window and climbed up to my room. I yelled. Nearly hit him with a sizeable baseball bat, if that makes you feel any better," Stiles said, chuckling. Derek's not going to lie; it did make him feel a little better. "Anyway, he explained himself, we talked it out, he told me about some other stuff he had going on and we shared a very awkward, very manly and very half-naked hug on my part. Then he left."

Stiles reached for Derek and put his hand on his knee. Derek stared at it; they'd only really held hands and kissed before. This seemed a little more intimate, somehow.

Everyone was silent, so Lydia stood up, spouting excuses about wanting to get to Allison's, getting dressed quickly and scrambling out the door, leaving the two men in silence.

Stiles still had his hand on Derek's knee. He was staring at his hand, which was tracing patterns on Derek's knee.

Derek broke the silence first. "What's wrong, Stiles?"

Stiles was drawn out of his reverie, shaking his head. "Sorry, what?"

"Something's up with you, Stiles," said Derek, placing his hand over Stiles'. "What's wrong? You can tell me, you know. I'm not just useful for my good looks and great reference making abilities."

Stiles smiled, but it was half-hearted at best. He shrugged. "It was good seeing everyone last night, but it feels like I… I feel different," he said. "Like, everyone's suddenly super-hot and apparently very confident, and I'm the same as ever. Boring old Stiles, who didn't get a date until junior year. Stiles, who is still a virgin. Ugly ass fucking Stiles, whose best friend ditched him for a girl."

Derek was speechless. Stiles, the bubbly, funny guy who was always smiling and joking, really had such little self-worth? He drew Stiles into his arms, encompassing the man's slight frame with his bigger one.

"Stiles," he begins, exhaling loudly. "You are… God, I don't even know how to describe you. You have the cutest little freckles ever, you know that?"

He felt Stiles shake, and he wasn't sure whether with laughter or tears. So he continued.

"If you didn't know, you do. It's like there's a constellation of stars on your face, and I think I could get lost in it, if I tried. And your eyes, Stiles, they're like… God, I am so bad at this. They're like warmth – like, they're brown, but they've got little flecks of gold and lighter brown, if you look hard enough. And Scott, just so you know, is a complete asshole. There will be no convincing me otherwise. But, fuck, Stiles…"

He withdrew from Stiles, looking him in the eyes. He was crying.

"Stiles, you're honest to god the most beautiful person I have ever met."

Stiles blushed slightly, a dopey smile working its way onto his face.

Derek put one hand on Stiles' neck, placing the other on Stiles' hip and absentmindedly tracing shapes. He leant forward, slowly enough so Stiles could lean back if he didn't want this. Stiles closed his eyes and leant forward.

Derek closed the distance between them, cautiously pressing his mouth against Stiles', using his grip on Stiles' neck to bring him closer until they were pressed flush against each other. Stiles slid his arms around Derek, one making its way up to entangle itself in Derek's hair, the other resting on the small of his back, fingers splayed.

Derek tentatively brushed his tongue against Stiles' bottom lip, wordlessly asking for permission. Stiles opened his mouth, giving Derek access. Derek could taste the coffee in Stiles' mouth and smiled. That made kissing a little awkward, but Derek didn't really care all that much.

Stiles moaned; a tiny little sound, but it set Derek's heart alight. He felt like his whole body was on fire. Stiles must have felt it too; he abandoned his arm positions and grabbed Derek's face. They continued trying to suck each other's souls out via the mouth until Derek felt that his lungs were about to explode.

He broke the kiss, sitting down on the couch – wait, when did they get into the living room? Derek didn't really care. He was gasping for air, trying to regain oxygen, and he was smiling like an idiot. He looked up to see Stiles staring at him, a similar look on his face. Stiles sat down next to him and Derek lifted his arm, letting Stiles snuggle into his arm.

His inner wolf howled. _'Mate!' _it screamed.

Derek shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts. He looked down at Stiles, who still had a grin on his face. He reached down and traced patterns on Stiles' arm.

"What is that?" asked Stiles, leaning against Derek's chest. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" asked Derek.

Stiles gestured to his arm. "The tracing thing. What is it?"

Derek shrugged. For the most part, it was an instinct thing. He wanted to touch his 'mate', so he did.

"I like the way your skin feels," he said, hoping to god it didn't sound creepy.

Apparently, Stiles didn't think it sounded creepy. He leaned up and gave Derek a big fat kiss on the mouth.

"I like that you like that," he said, blushing. "And about before-"

"It's fine, Stiles. Everyone feels self-conscious from time to time," he said, slipping his hands around Stiles' waist. "I'm glad you talked to me about it, though."

He buried his nose in Stiles' neck, breathing deeply. He loved Stiles' scent – past the smell of Adderall, which still lingered. It smelt like… like a summer day in the woods.

Stiles snorted. "_You _get self-conscious? Mister I-could-be-a-model-if-I-didn't-have-such-a-leather -fetish?" said Stiles. "And, yes, I found your drawer full of leather jackets. Very you, I must say."

Derek blushed, pushing his face further into Stiles' neck to hide it. Stiles gasped.

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry, Derek, I have to go. Like right now," said Stiles, whipping around to kiss Derek. He rushed upstairs and Derek could hear him crashing around trying to get dressed and get all of his belongings. He rushes down the stairs again, quickly giving Derek a kiss before running out of the door. Derek does the dishes, because he's got nothing else to do.

He hears a buzzing noise and realizes it's his phone, so he picks it up.

"Hello?"

"_Derek," _came the reply. Chris Argent was on the phone. _"How fast can you get to the woods? I have something I'd like you to see."_

**Hey guys, sorry for the cliff-hanger, but I needed to get something up, and this is 2000 words, and I'm about to pass out from exhaustion and stress, so please forgive me for mistakes and the quality of this chapter.**

**As always, constructive criticism is welcomed and reviews are appreciated **

**(also there's over 2000 hits on the story at the moment, which is exciting! Thank you guys so much)**


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles ran to the car, trying not to trip or look like an idiot.

He wasn't succeeding.

He jumped in, putting the jeep into gear and turning away from the curb.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Stiles muttered to himself. "How could you forget mom's birthday?"

He sped up, trying to get to home quickly. He reached the Stilinski household in four minutes, with possibly a little more than a little law-breakage.

He unlocked the doors and threw them open, racing up to his father's bedroom.

"Dad!" he yelled as he ran up the stairs. "I'm home. I know I missed lunch, but-"

He reached his dad's bedroom, pulling the door open to find Sheriff Stilinski surrounded by empty beer bottles. Too many for Stiles' comfort.

"Dad?" said Stiles, slowly approaching his father.

"Gerrout," Sheriff said, his words slurred due to his obvious drunken state.

"Dad," said Stiles, inching closer to his dad and attempting to pull the half-empty can of beer out of his hand.

"No," said Sheriff, standing in his sudden surge of rage. "No, Stiles. Get out."

Stiles stumbled, taken aback by his dad's sudden anger. "Dad, what's wrong?"

Sheriff laughed, but humour was absent from the sound. "What's wrong? What's wrong, Stiles? Everything," he said. "Everything is wrong. Everything since we had to put off your mother's tests to pay for your ADD meds. Everything since you were diagnosed with ADD. Everything since you were born, Stiles."

He started to get choked up. "Your poor mother, Stiles," he said, voice cracking. "She worked so hard. So hard, for you. You, the ungrateful little kid who couldn't sit still enough to thank his goddamn mother. The same kid who is standing in front of me right now."

Stiles was speechless. He felt tears falling down his face. "Dad-"

"No," said the Sheriff. "No, Stiles. I can't be around you right now."

With that, he stormed past Stiles and down the stairs. Stiles stood there, too shocked to think, until he heard his dad getting his keys.

He raced down the stairs "Dad, you can't drive," said Sties. "You'll get yourself killed."

The Sheriff laughed. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

Stiles snatched the keys out of the Sheriff's hand. It was easy, but this wasn't surprising to Stiles. I mean, his dad could probably barely stand without wobbling.

"Fine, then. I'll walk."

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out the door. Stiles knew there was nothing he could do to stop him. He collapsed, his body wracked with sobs and shaking so much he could feel himself convulsing.

Stiles didn't know how long he lay there until he heard a noise. He looked up, expecting to find his father. Instead, the body belonged to Scott. He pulled Stiles off the ground and immediately embraced him in an _almost_ tootight hug.

Stiles was starting to cry again, and Scott let him. He put Stiles' head on his shoulder and let him cry. When Stiles was done, Scott guided him to the couch and sat him down, putting on Iron Man and going to get supplies. He used to do that whenever Stiles got bummed out about anything.

Stiles didn't want to acknowledge how much he had missed this.

Scott came back in with a blanket and the tub of double-choc ice cream that Stiles had hidden from his dad. He also gave Stiles his phone, which had a few texts from Lydia and Derek. He left them unread. Stiles really wasn't in the mood to talk right now, which Scott understood. They did this a lot after Scott's dad left.

They watched the movie in silence, soaking in the utter awesome that is RDJ and also the very large amount of sugar that was contained in the ice cream. Once the movie was done, Scott packed away the ice cream, turned off the TV and led Stiles to bed. Though it was still only about 6, Stiles felt exhausted, and he knew that Scott knew that.

God, he was glad to have Scott back.

Scott left him, giving him a pat on the back and promising to call the police department to be on the lookout for the Sheriff. With Stiles' mind at ease, and his body fatigued, he fell into sleep.

Derek pulled on his jeans and a top as fast as he could, pulling on a leather jacket as he made his way out of the door. Now that Stiles knew about his collection, it wouldn't be _too _embarrassing to wear the jackets now. Hopefully.

He reached the preserve fairly quickly, jogging to the spot he agreed to meet Chris at.

"Derek?" he heard. He ran towards the source.

"Hello, Chris," he said. "Why am I here?"

Chris sighed. He, like Derek, was a man of business, and Derek knew he didn't want to be here anymore than Chris did.

"Well, I was wondering if you could explain this," he said, gesturing to his feet.

Or, more accurately, the severely mangled deer carcass that was in front of Chris' feet.

"Explain?" he asked, brows furrowing. The deer was dead, what was there to explain?

"Well, you can see here that the deer's ankles were hobbled," said Chris, gesturing to the appropriate part of the deer. "And here, his throat was slit."

"And this is my problem why?" asked Derek.

"Well, Derek, this was the work of a wolf," said Chris. "And I don't think that you, Scott or Jackson are the type to hunt deer."

Derek nodded. "So you think there's an omega around?"

Chris nodded. "That would be the most accurate scenario," he said. "You might want to inform your pack. Just for safety."

Derek nodded. "Is there anything else?" he asked. Derek didn't mind Chris all that much, but he wasn't eager to spend more time than completely necessary around him.

Chris shook his head. "No, this was all," he said. He turned around, obviously leaving. "Oh, and you might want to tell Stiles. I don't want to have to deal with you if he dies, Derek. Losing one's mate is difficult."

He left after that, leaving a bewildered and slightly embarrassed Derek to his thoughts. After about a minute, Derek remembered that socially adjusted people tended not to leave their mouths hanging open. So, he shut his mouth and walked back to his car.

He blasted the music in his car, but none of the lyrics sunk in. If you asked him what he was listening to, he'd have no clue. He was too busy thinking about Stiles.

He pulled out his phone, texting Stiles a quick "you okay?" He had no idea why Stiles had rushed out that afternoon, but he hoped he was okay. It was natural to be protective of his m-

BOYFRIEND. His boyfriend.

He went home to a very tired Lydia, who had spent the day shopping with Allison.

"She's happy Stiles and Scott are talking again," she said, leading Derek to the bathroom so they could chat while she removed her makeup. "She said Scott complained about the absence of Stiles a lot. He never mentioned it, though. Idiot."

Derek nodded. "Hey," she said. "Why'd you want me out of the house this morning? You two didn't get it on, did you? I mean, the cleaners-"

"No, Lydia," said Derek, quickly cutting her off. "He just seemed kind of… un-Stiles, you know? I wanted to see what was up."

Lydia nodded. "And what was up?"

"A case of the old low self-esteem and even lower self-worth," said Derek. Lydia nodded sombrely. "I seriously can't believe that though. I mean, it's _Stiles."_

"I know, right? I mean he seems so confident all the time, you'd think he'd be kind of in love with himself, right? Wrong," Lydia said. "I mean, before he came out, he worshipped the very ground I walked on, but I never really gave him a chance, because I knew something was up with him. I mean, I knew he was gay, and I thought that was it, but apparently not."

Derek nodded. He checked his phone and frowned. Stiles still hadn't texted him back.

"What's wrong?" Lydia asked.

"Stiles hasn't texted me back," Derek mumbled.

"I'll try him," said Lydia. She pulled out her phone, furiously typing into the keypad. "What should we do while we wait? You up for a movie?"

"The sappiest one you can find," said Derek. Lydia grinned, moving towards the Disney section of their combined movie collection. She pulled out Bambi, reminding Derek of the encounter with Chris that morning.

"Hey, Lydia," said Derek. Lydia turned around, eyebrow raised. "There's been some sightings of mountain lions recently, so be careful."

Lydia nodded, giving Derek a puzzled look before turning back to the DVD cupboard and picking out Tangled. They settled in together and Lydia turned on the movie, but Derek couldn't focus on it. All he could think about was Stiles.

Lydia turned off the movie after its completion. "Anything from Stiles?" she asked.

Derek shook his head. He was starting to get worried. I mean, with all the talk of omegas running around and now Stiles' inability to answer his phone?

"I might drop by to see if he's okay," said Derek. It was getting dark, but he didn't really care. Stiles wouldn't, either.

Lydia nodded. "Call me."

Derek nodded and grabbed his keys, making it to the car before his phone rang. He picked it up after the first ring.

"Hello?"

"_A bit eager there, aren't we, Derek?" _said Scott.

Derek sighed. "Scott, what's up? I'm on my way to Stiles', so what do you need?"

"_Stiles is fine, if you're worried about him," _said Scott. _"He's not going to tell _me _what's wrong, but if you want to go visit him when he's awake, I'm sure he wouldn't mind talking to someone."_

"Okay," Derek says. "Oh, and Scott?"

"_Yeah, Derek?"_

"You didn't happen to kill a deer in the woods did you?"

"_Not that I know of," _said Scott. Derek groaned. _"What's up?"_

"Omegas," said Derek. "Keep an eye out, okay?"

"_Sure, Derek," _he said. The two fell into silence.

"Well, bye," said Derek.

"_Call me after you visit Stiles. There's a spare key under the doormat."_

He hung up. Derek walked back into the house.

"Did Stiles call?" asked Lydia.

"No, Scott did," Derek replied. "He said Stiles wasn't too good. I'm going to head over there for the night."

"I'll make you dinner while you pack," said Lydia. "There won't be any food over there. No good food, anyway."

Lydia heated up the stove while Derek made his way to the stairs

"Jackson and I are going out for dinner," she said. "So we'll be back late if you end up crashing back here."

Derek nodded, heading up the stairs. He grabbed out an overnight bag and packed a grey pear of sweats, a white tee, some jeans, a leather jacket (he knew Stiles would get a kick out of that), and a light grey tee. He also packed his copy of The Hobbit, knowing Stiles would probably call him a nerd. The hypocrite.

Derek jogged down the stairs and chatted with Lydia while she made the fried rice. As soon as she was done and the food was in his bag, he left for Stiles'.

When he reached the door, he looked under the doormat and retrieved the key. He was going to leave it out there, but with omegas running around, he decided against it.

He'd only been in Stiles' house once, and that was only for a brief time. Derek wandered around the living room, looking at pictures of Stiles and a woman who must have been his mother. He smiled at baby Stiles' ridiculous expressions; even when he was a kid, Stiles was very expressive, it seemed.

Derek heard some movement upstairs, so he went to the source of the noise, which was Stiles.

Derek paused at the doorway to his bedroom. He'd never been in here before, what would Stiles think of him if he barged into his room without invitation?

The need to be close to Stiles soon won out over Derek's discomfort. He found Stiles in his bed and pulled up a chair next to it. He pulled out his food and ate as quietly as possible, trying not to wake Stiles. He finished the meal and pulled on the sweats and old tee that would serve as his pyjamas and climbed into bed next to Stiles. He managed to ignore how natural it all felt until Stiles pulled Derek back into his embrace.

He was being spooned. He was the little spoon. Stiles Stilinski was spooning him.

He liked it.

He listened to Stiles' heartbeat and tried to slow his own down to match. Encompassed by Stiles' warmth, and arms, he fell asleep. One word was running through his head.

_Mate._ _Mate._ _Mate._ _Mate._ _Mate._ _Mate._ _Mate._ _Mate._ _Mate._ _Mate._ _Mate._ _Mate._ _Mate._

**Hey guys, sorry for the delay. As per usual, school is making my schedule a little crazy.**

**As always, reviews are encouraged, constructive criticism is welcome and thank you for reading **


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles woke up to the frighteningly familiar feel of Derek, but this time he was the big spoon.

He was spooning Derek Hale.

He liked it.

He mentally fist pumped and wriggled forward in the bed so that he was flush against Derek. He heard Derek slowly wake and sighed, waiting for Derek to throw his arm off and insist on being the big spoon. To his surprise, though, Derek did the opposite. He snuggled back into Stiles' grasp and reached for his arms.

"Morning," he grumbled, shifting around to face Stiles and planting a kiss on his nose. Stiles smiled, kissing Derek right back.

Then it hit him.

His smile fell, along with his mood. Derek sensed this, detaching Stiles' arms from around him and sitting them both up, letting Stiles' head fall on his shoulders and wrapping his arms around the trembling boy. Stiles let out a sob, tears falling down his cheeks and absorbing into Derek's shirt. If he minded, he didn't say anything. So Stiles sat there, Derek's arms around him, crying until he felt he couldn't cry any longer.

He sat there, sucking in breath and trying not to shake too badly. Derek just sat there, one arm on the back of Stiles' neck, the other on his lower back, supporting him. Stiles withdrew from the embrace, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. Derek watched him and the minute he withdrew his hands from his face, Derek's lips were on his own.

It was a sweet kiss, lasting for about five seconds in total duration, but it was what Stiles needed. Derek drew back, looking concerned.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, brows furrowed.

Stiles shook his head. Derek nodded.

"Alright. Come downstairs and I'll see what I can cook for you."

Derek got off the bed, offering Stiles his hand, which the younger man took with gratitude.

They walked down the stairs, Derek leading Stiles to the dining table and getting him into a seat before padding of to the kitchen. Stiles slumped in his seat, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Before long, Derek came back with toast in hand.

He smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I could only really find bread. You run a tight ship here, Stiles. Your father should be grateful you want to take such good care of him," he said, handing Stiles his toast.

At the mention of his father, Stiles started to tear up again. Derek rushed over, squatting next to Stiles' chair and stroking his cheekbones, looking very concerned.

"You want to talk?" asked Derek, moving behind Stiles to hug him, sticking his face in the crook of Stiles' neck.

Stiles nodded, so Derek turned his chair around and dragged over his own.

So Stiles sat there and explained what had happened the previous day. Derek sat through all of it, keeping a straight face. The only thing that betrayed his emotions were his eyes. Stiles liked that he could read Derek from a simple glance. It made him feel like they were special.

After he finished, Derek pounced on him, lifting him out of his seat and taking him over to the couch, where he laid the younger man down and straddled him.

Derek leant forward, peppering kisses all over Stiles' face, grabbing his hands and kissing them, kissing down his neck, kissing his collarbones, kissing along his hairline. Stiles couldn't help but giggle; Derek was acting like a puppy.

Once Derek had finished kissing the circumference of Stiles' face, he put his hands on Stiles' cheeks and rubbed them with his thumbs. He leant forward and pressed his lips to Stiles' not moving them. Stiles realised.

Derek was giving him control. Stiles moved his face, opening his mouth and running his tongue along Derek's bottom lip. Derek opened his mouth, accepting Stiles into his mouth. Stiles hadn't done much kissing, so he was a bit unsure of himself. Derek, on the other hand, had done quite a lot of kissing in his time. Stiles was sure of it.

Stiles pulled back. Derek sat up and got off of him.

"Hey!" said Stiles. "I didn't mean get off me, I was thinking more, like, less shirt-ness?"

Derek shook his head. "I'm taking advantage. You're kind of unstable right now."

He began to back away. Stiles shook his head, standing.

"No, no, don't leave," he said, walking over to Derek and intertwining their hands. "I'd like you to stay. Even if we just watch movies, or talk. I just… I just need someone around. The silence is unbearable."

He could see Derek's resolve crumbling, so he took their hands and led Derek back to the couch, sitting him down. Stiles flipped on the TV, turning on the last DVD he'd had in the player, which was Captain America. He went back to the couch and sat next to Derek, snuggling into his chest. Stiles may have drifted off a few times during the movie, but he'd been through a lot. You can't blame him.

After the movie finished, Stiles and Derek sat there, just drinking in the presence of one another. Derek stirred, Stiles drawn from his reverie.

"Do you have to go?"

Derek nodded, turning his sad eyes toward Stiles. "Are you going to be okay?"

Stiles nodded after hesitation. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. You've been here long enough," he said, getting of Derek and grabbing his hand, pulling the other man off the couch.

Derek let Stiles help him up, kissing him on the cheek. "Call me if things get bad," he said, pulling Stiles into his arms. "I'll come and see you tomorrow."

Stiles nodded, burying his head into Derek's neck.

"Oh, and be safe, okay? Apparently there are mountain lions on the loose. Keep an eye out," said Derek, pulling back. "I don't want you getting hurt."

Stiles nodded. "Thank you," he said, pulling Derek in for a kiss. "For everything."

Derek nodded, flashing a smile and giving Stiles a quick wave before trotting out of the door. Stiles sighed, closing the door behind him. He reached for the phone, chewing on his lip. He hadn't seen dad last night, but he'd be at work, right? Stiles shouldn't be worried.

But, alas, he was. He punched in his dad's office number and waited. He got sent a busy tone.

That's fine, right? Dad was probably just talking to a client, or maybe out getting lunch. Even though it's…. three o'clock.

That's totally normal. Maybe dad forgot to have lunch. Yeah, that's totally it. He does it all the time. You do it yourself, Stiles.

Fuck, stop talking to yourself. Shit's getting weird.

Shaking his interior dialogue out of his head, Stiles got up and turned on some music. He couldn't stand the silence.

He went upstairs and dicked around on his laptop for a while, finishing some stuff for his classes. He finished a paragraph or two of an assignment he had, so Stiles was pretty happy with that. He heard his phone vibrating and pounced, hoping to hear his father.

"Hello?"

"_Hey, Stiles," _said Scott from the other line. Stiles tried to hide the disappointment from his voice.

"Oh, hey, Scott. What's up?"

"_Just checking up on you. Did Derek come over?" _asked Scott.

"Yeah, he only left about half an hour ago, actually. Thanks for sending him over," said Stiles, making the conclusion. "But I'm fine."

"_You sure? You seemed pretty out of it last night," _said Scott.

"Yeah," Stiles said, exhaling loudly. "I'm fine. I'll just wait until dad comes home and try and fix things up."

"_Want some company while you wait?" _asked Scott.

"I wouldn't refuse it, no," said Stiles. "Pizza?"

Scott laughed. _"Man, you know me too well," _he said. _"I'll be there in ten."_

Stiles said goodbye and hung up, digging around for the pizza company's number. He reached it, ordered some pizza and brought some of his DVDs downstairs. He'd just stacked them when Scott came barrelling in.

"Hey man," he said, a goofy smile on his lopsided face.

"Hey, Scott," said Stiles, letting Scott pull him into a bro-hug.

Scott released him, heading to the living room to set up a DVD. Stiles followed, shaking his head. They put on The Hunger Games (shut up, Scott had a major crush on Jennifer. I mean, the archery thing reminded him of Allison – she was internationally ranked as an archer, after all) and settled in. As Prim's name was being pulled from the bowl, the pizza arrived.

The two men spent the rest of the evening watching movies and eating. Scott left Stiles at about eight o'clock, promising to call tomorrow. Stiles, though it was only about 8:30, was exhausted. He made his way up to his bed, falling asleep as his head hit the pillow. His exhaustion had made him forget that he hadn't seen his father since the previous day, and that his dad had been due back several hours ago.

How sleep deprivation can addle the brain.

**Hey guys, I'm sorry this is so short, but I wanted to put something up. It's exam season, so I might be a little lax with my updates, but hopefully I should be able to whip something up before the week is out. As always, reviews are appreciated and constructive criticism is welcomed **


	10. Chapter 10

Derek made his way out of Stiles' house, trying not to feel too guilty about leaving him. Derek hopped into his Camaro and started the car, pulling out from the driveway. He saw the Sheriff's car on the sidewalk and shook his head. No one had seen the Sheriff since the day before last, and Derek was feeling really uneasy.

It was time to talk to Chris. With the omega running around, it was dangerous for people to be out alone, especially when incapacitated. Derek was worried for the Sheriff.

He pulled up at the Argent's house about five minutes later. He walked to the door and knocked, barely getting to the second knock before the door opened.

"Well, if it isn't my little Derek, all grown up!" said Kate, grinning maliciously. Derek growled and felt his canines extend.

"Kate," snarled Derek, trying to compose himself. "Where's Chris. I need to talk to him."

Kate chuckled, opening the door wider. "Such a warm welcome back from an old friend," she said. "Well, I wouldn't expect much more from _your kind. _Especially you, you never did like to talk much, did you?"

Derek snarled. He heard an arrow being secured into place, and turned to see Chris.

"Derek," he said, calm as ever. "Please don't growl at my sister. I'd hate to have to end our truce."

Derek nodded, closing his eyes. He felt his claws and fangs retract, and when he opened his eyes, the crossbow was gone.

"What do you want, Derek?" asked Chris, not trying to hide his disapproval of the seemingly unnecessary intrusion.

"Sheriff's missing," said Derek. He wasn't one to beat around the bush. "Stiles said he hasn't seen him for at least a day."

Chris' face grew sombre and grim. "And when did you find that out?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This morning. Scott called me to say Stiles wasn't feeling to well, so I went over to check on him," said Derek. He saw Kate's face stretch into a grin.

Chris nodded. "Alright," he said. "We'll put a search party in the woods, and we'll try to find the Sheriff as soon as possible. I'm assuming you believe the omega is responsible?"

Derek nodded. Chris sighed, pulling out his phone. "I'll call my hunters now, you can go," Chris said. Derek nodded, understanding his cue to leave.

He reached the door, but before he could exit, the door was slammed shut by Kate.

Derek inhaled deeply, trying to maintain his composure. "Move," he said.

Kate smirked. "Now, why would I give up my chance to have a reunion with my _favourite _little beta?" she said, reaching out and grabbing Derek's arm. "We had such fun, didn't we?"

Derek remained silent and unreactive. "Move," he said, gritting his teeth, "or I will move you."

Kate laughed. "Oh, you could try, big boy," she said, stepping backwards. "You could try."

Derek stormed out of the house, picking up his pace. He needed to get away from there, and he needed the damn taste of ash to get out of his mouth.

At least now he could be a little less worried about the Sheriff. Though he despised hunters, they were efficient trackers and the Sheriff would be in safe hands.

Derek drove home and threw himself onto his bed. He was pretty exhausted, but if he went to bed now, he'd never sleep later. He put his dirty clothes in the hamper and went for a shower. He let the warm water rush over him as he scrubbed his body.

Derek felt like if he scrubbed his body hard enough, the memory of the smoke and the ash and the flames would be destroyed. So he scrubbed and scrubbed, and nearly took off his skin in several places.

When he exited the shower, he gargled mouthwash to try and lessen the taste of ash and make his mouth feel less like something died in it. After getting changed, he went downstairs and found Lydia and Allison chatting together, sipping coffees. Derek groaned; he had a feeling that this would soon turn into a gossip session, and Derek wasn't sure he could handle it.

He tried to retreat back up the stairs, but was called back by Lydia.

"Derek! Come sit, we can talk," said Lydia, gesturing to the couch across from where the two girls were seated.

Derek sighed, but obeyed. He sat on the leather couch opposite the girls and braced himself for the conversation that was to come.

"So, Derek," began Lydia after a good five minutes of silence. "What's the situation with you and Stiles?"

Derek sighed. Of course this was about Stiles.

"Well, he's my boyfriend," said Derek. Lydia squealed, clasping her hands and making 'aw' sounds with Allison. "What else is there to know?"

Lydia shot Allison a look. "Uh, like, a lot," she said, pursing her lips. "How far have you two been?"

Derek scrunched his nose up and Allison laughed. "Lydia, seriously? This is like, twelve year-old girl sleepover stuff. There are things I could be doing, like _adult_ things-"

"Ooh, adult things," said Lydia, wiggling her eyebrows. "Like Stiles?"

Derek rolled his eyes while Allison grinned maliciously. "No, Lydia," he sighed. "Like laundry."

Lydia groaned and threw an arm over her forehead. "Why must you ruin the fun, Derek," she groaned.

Derek's phone rang, so he excused himself from the company of the two girls.

"Hello?" said Derek.

"_Derek, you should come and see this," _said Chris. He gave Derek a location in the woods to meet him at. Derek frowned, walking over to grab his keys.

"On my way," said Derek. He rushed out the door, spouting goodbyes to the girls as he made his way out.

He drove at maximum legal speed and may have exceeded the limit more than a few times. He exited the car and jogged over to the group of hunters, trying to dampen his disdain.

"Chris, what'd you need me for?" Derek asked.

Chris stepped back, revealing a rocky outcrop covered in blood.

"I assume you're thinking this is the Sheriff's blood," said Derek, trying to maintain the appearance of composure.

Chris nodded, his face devoid of emotion. "That's the general theory, yes. You've met the Sheriff before, yes?" Chris said.

"Yeah, a few times," said Derek.

"So would you be able to identify his scent?" asked Chris.

Derek looked at his surroundings. There was heavy foliage behind him, a small hill in front of him and mountains on either side. There hadn't been rain in the last few days, so the scent should still be there. Derek sniffed, trying to identify the smell that was the Sheriff. It was quite like Stiles', a mixture of cinnamon and pine leaves, but the Sheriff had an undertone of cigars and scotch that came with too many nights bitterly drinking and smoking to forget. He could just make it out, though he had to search for it.

"Yeah, I got it," said Derek. "Faint, but I could probably follow it for a while."

Chris nodded, stepping back and gesturing for Derek to begin his search. He turned around, knowing that generally, wolves liked protection, which meant cover. The Sheriff's scent led that way, so Derek shifted and began to follow the trail. He opted for wolf speed, dropping onto all fours and letting his wolf instincts take over following the trail. His surroundings blurred, the path of scent leading him through the thick greenery covering the forest floor. He arrived at a pond and stopped, the scent of the omega wolf hitting him with the strength of a truck.

Derek came to a complete stop, rising to his legs and whipping his head around. The scent of the omega was so strong Derek was nearly choking on it. He couldn't hear anyone, though, so the omega must've only just left. The scent of the Sheriff was nearly entirely masked by the omega's scent, and Derek struggled to regain the scent. He found it and set off at a jog, knowing the Sheriff would be nearby. If the wolf had him, dead or alive, he wouldn't be too far away.

Sure enough, about five minutes east of the pond, the Sheriff was in a cave concealed by some well-placed rocks. Derek heaved them away and the smell of the Sheriff's blood hit him like a slap in the face. He could hear a heartbeat, though, so at least he was alive. The slow beat of his heart calmed Derek down. Unconscious was better than dead, Derek reminded himself.

He carried the Sheriff on his back all the way to Chris, who had already called an ambulance. While they waited, Derek told Chris about the pond and two hunters were sent to check it out.

"The omega was there recently," said Derek. Chris nodded and warned his hunters to be vigilant.

Why was Derek helping them? It's not like they'd been kind to him in the past.

Derek was shaken out of his reverie by Chris.

"Do you think you should call Stiles? I mean, it's his dad, after all," said Chris.

Derek shook his head. "He's been through a lot the past week," said Derek. "I'll wait until the Sheriff's stable in the hospital, and I'll let Stiles get a good night's rest. I mean, he wouldn't have been able to stay, anyway. The amount of blood the Sheriff lost… Let's just say, he's a lucky man."

Chris looked unsure, but sighed and said, "I'll leave it up to you. You know the kid better than I do."

Derek took that as a farewell and left, eager to get the sight of the Sheriff covered in his own blood out of his head. While he was running, he'd lost track of time, and it was about seven. From what Derek could guess, he'd left for the woods at about three.

Lydia was going to be pissed.

He took the scenic route home, passing the library and café on his way home. Laura had always loved to come here when she got time off from Alpha training duties, Derek remembered with a sigh. She'd buy a pastry and a large coffee before heading over to the library to kill some time and pretend to be normal for a while. Derek had met Kate in the library; she'd been employed there when they'd met.

Derek shook off the nostalgia. Fond memories tended to lead to bad ones in his experience, so he drove past the library and the café and cast thoughts of the past from his mind. He arrived home to the scent of stir-fry and prepared himself for Lydia's wrath, which was as brutal as he had expected. She yelled at him at length about the irresponsibility of taking of for _four freaking hours, Derek _and that he should _make a motherfucking call, _so Lydia wouldn't _have to sit around worrying about you pretty little ass._

After Lydia was satisfied that she'd made her point, she served Derek dinner and left him to his own devices. Derek appreciated that Lydia gave him space, because otherwise he probably would have killed her by now. Clingy people and Derek just don't mix.

Derek checked his phone and sent Scott a text asking how Stiles was, to which the reply never came. He showered, slipped into his pyjamas and passed out nearly as soon as his head hit the pillow.

**Guys I am actually so sorry about the lack of updates, I've had the biggest writer's block known to man for the past three days, so it's been hard to write. I'll try to update again tomorrow, but no promises from me, so don't hold me to that.**

**As always, reviews are appreciated, constructive criticism is accepted and thank you for reading **


	11. Chapter 11

Stiles woke up to a silent house, which was odd to him, because he hadn't been without the company of Scott or Derek in at least a day. And he hadn't seen his dad in about two days, which was a lot longer than usual.

Stiles swallowed his anxiety and forced himself to get out of bed, despite the desire to go back to sleep and never wake up again. His stomach growled when he stood up, so he went to the kitchen and made himself some pancakes. As the first batch was coming off the stove, there was a knock at the door. He called out, "Just a minute!" and rushed to get the next batch on. He adjusted the heat of the stove to low and answered the door.

He wiped his floury hands on his sweatpants and turned the knob, revealing Derek, who looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Derek! What's up?" asked Stiles, trying not to react to the dishevelled look of his boyfriend. "I'm making pancakes, if you'd like to come in."

Derek mustered up a smile, but Stiles could see he didn't really mean it. He pushed it aside, deciding to let Derek eat pancakes and be happy before asking what's up.

He flipped the second batch while dishing some of the first batch onto a plate for Derek. He slid it over to Derek, who smiled appreciatively and began to cut up his pancake. Stiles let silence fall while he cooked his batch, and once they were done he sat and began to eat his pancakes with gusto.

"So what's up?" asked Stiles, attempting to be casual. Derek froze, tensing up. He sat up straight and cleared his throat.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Stiles knew he was avoiding the topic, so he pressed on.

"As much as I love impromptu visits from my smoking hot boyfriend, I can't help but feel that there's an ulterior motive here," he said, turning to face Derek and grabbed his hands. "Did something happen yesterday?"

Derek sighed, giving Stiles' hands a squeeze. "It's about your dad," said Derek, inspecting his shoes.

He looked up and saw Stiles pale, heard his heart skip a beat. "W-what about my dad?" Stiles stammered, swallowing back the anxiety that was rising like bile in his throat.

"We found him," said Derek, and Stiles felt his throat cut off and tears spring to his eyes. "Alive, alive, he's alive. He was attacked by what looks like a wolf, but he's okay."

Stiles felt relief wash over him and let out a sigh before collapsing. Derek reached out and caught him, pulling Stiles into his arms. Stiles let out a sob, though his eyes were dry.

Derek rubbed circles onto his back and held him in place. Stiles pulled back, breathing deeply and trying to compose himself.

"How do you know?" he asked, closing his eyes to focus on his breathing.

"Chris Argent found your dad while he was out in the woods," said Derek, trying to come up with a believable lie. "He called an ambulance, and I ran into him later, and he told me to tell you your dad was stable."

Stiles frowned. "Why wouldn't the hospital contact me directly?" he asked, biting his lip.

"Scott mentioned to Melissa that you'd had a rough few days," lied Derek. "She decided that someone telling you face to face would be the better option."

Stiles nodded, digesting the information. "Can I see him?" he asked, worrying his teeth between his lips. Derek nodded. Stiles turned back to his pancakes and slowly ate the remainder. Once he was done, he placed the dishes in the sink and walked upstairs to get changed.

He slowly put on some jeans and a tee, not really paying any attention to what he was wearing. He put on his shoes and grabbed his keys, walking straight past Derek and out of the door. He walked to the jeep and got in, only stopping then to wait for Derek to finish locking up and join him in the Jeep.

As soon as Derek's seatbelt was fastened, Stiles took off. He took no notice of speed limits; they were just numbers to him. He didn't care about the law, not when his father was hospitalised.

He reached the hospital in minutes, hopping out as soon as the handbrake was secure. He left the keys in the car so that Derek could lock up. He pushed open the doors of the hospital and charged in, heading straight for the nurse's desk. Thankfully, Melissa was on duty, because Stiles wasn't sure he was capable of polite conversation.

"Melissa," he said, approaching the desk. She looked up from her charts and smiled, but it was the smile of sympathy that Stiles knew and loathed. "Where's my dad."

Melissa handed off her chart to another nurse and walked over to Stiles.

"Follow me."

He was led down a hallway and into a room about 50 metres from the front desk. He inhaled sharply at the site of his dad connected to so many wires and machines. It reminded him of when his mother was in hospital, slowly and painfully dying, growing weaker day by day.

He stumbled his way over to the visitor's chair and collapsed into it. He moved it forward so that he could reach his father's hand, which he encompassed with his own.

Derek walked in, halting at the doorway. "Should I go?" he asked, a concerned look on his face.

"If you want to," said Stiles. "I'm probably just going to sit here, so it's not going to be terribly exciting."

"Are you sure?" said Derek, walking over to Stiles and squatting beside his chair. "I can stay."

Stiles looked down at Derek. "No, I'm sure," said Stiles. "Go home and rest. You look like you could use it."

Derek nodded, standing. He kissed Stiles on the forehead before he left.

As soon as Derek left, he was in tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Dad, I'm s-so s-sorry," he choked out. "I know it was m-my fault. I've always known that it was my fault. I know I was the reason we couldn't get mom's tests. You don't think that's what I think about every minute? Because I do.

Whenever mom's anniversary comes around and you get all quiet and you drink more and you try to hide it, but I know. And when you're drunk, you try to conceal the hatred, I know, but you don't do it very well.

I resent myself most days for what happened. And I know I'm a stupid hyperactive teen, and I hate myself most days for not being able to sit still or focus in class. So if that's worth anything, I need you to tell me."

Stiles finished, bowing his head and sobbing onto his dad's hand.

He stayed there for another half hour, sitting in silence. He left after that. He couldn't stand hospitals, not after all that happened with his mom.

He got in the car and drove home, barely making it to his bed before sobs wracked his body. He pulled out his sleeping pills, popping a few before sliding under his covers.

Yo guys,

So I know this chapter wasn't my best, but I'm trying really hard to update every day (every day for me, anyway. I live in Australia, so our days are different to yours), so I just wanted to post something.  
As always, reviews are encouraged, constructive criticisms are welcomed and thank you for reading


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